Cross My Heart
by SunshineBlondie
Summary: After an abusive relationship comes to a shocking end, city girl Chelsea finds herself stranded on a deserted island. The only way to get home is winning a sheep-raising contest. Her partner? Vaughn, a rough, angry cowboy. Can these two ever get along, much less develop feelings for each other?
1. Prologue: Listen

**Prologue: ****Listen**

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><p><em>Hate.<em>

My mom always told me not to use it. "Hate's a strong word Chelsea. Next time, say you _strongly dislike_ somebody, okay?" That's on the list of things my mother told me to never do or stay away from. Cole being #1 on that list.

Maybe I should have listened.

I hate him.

I'm crossing my arms, waiting for him to unlock the door. Doors are better opened, not shut. Of course, Cole begs to differ.

"You _told_ me this boat goes from 10 AM, to 6 PM. Not the other way around." My voice is harsh. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 8 PM. Which means I'm sleeping on this ship. Which means _we're_ sleeping on this ship. Which means Cole has something else in mind, other than sleeping.

Cole shrugs, a grin playing on his lips. "Guess I forgot." A few strands of his shoulder length dark blonde hair falls into his eyes, and he flicks them away, stepping closer to me, hands immediately snaking around my waist. His lips find my collarbone, and I regret wearing a tube top. "But I guess we'll have to make the most of our time." There's a flash of something in his green eyes, something I see often. As usual, his hands travel up my chest, under my shirt. And, as usual, I push him back, glaring.

_"No."_ I've said this a million times. Clearly, the six months we've been together, and me saying no each time to his desires goes in one ear, out the other.

"Come _on_ babe," Cole whines, making a face. "Why can't we-"

"Because I said _no._" Truth is, I'm scared about the consequences. Scared about, oh, I don't know, getting pregnant. Because I know Cole won't do anything to prevent it, or even support me later on.

Risks are one of my biggest fears.

Cole rolls his eyes, swinging his arm around me, mouth closing over mine. "Come on babe, I love you," he whispers.

_Correction, you love me when you want me._

You might wonder, Chelsea, why on God's green earth are ya still with this guy if you hate him?

Wish I knew.

Oh, at first, he was charming. Met him at a bar when I was 15, bought me a drink, played the "bad-boy" look, told me some cheesy pick up lines. By the end of the night, his tongue was halfway down my throat. And, him paying attention to me, not my friends, not any other girl in the bar with skanky clothes, made me feel... special. I ignored what my friends said, ignored what my family said.

Maybe I should have listened.

He's kissing me harder now, just like that night. I'm struggling, because really, I'm sick of his lies, his wants, what he makes me do for him. I just want to curl up with my mom at home, watching "Wheel of Fortune" or whatever. I do not want to be on a boat, taking me God knows where, alone in a room, with Cole.

I jerk away from his kiss, glaring at him. "Cole, seriously, _stop._ I'm not doing this."

Cole just shakes his head, smiling smugly. "Who said I was asking you?" And he does something. He scoops me up into his arms, throws me on the bed, and kisses me madly, like the world depends on it.

He's never gone this far before. Usually, he just sulks, then grabs a beer, downing it in a minute, forgetting about it. But with that look in his eyes, I know he's not going to give up. He's going to get what he wants.

When I struggle, all he does is smirk, pulling my shirt completely off, leaving me only in my bra. "Cole!" I screech, trying to get him off off of me. He just kisses me, tongue trying to get entry towards my mouth, lips locked like a gate.

"Shh." He puts a finger to my lips, as if this action is supposed to calm me down, like, "hey Chelsea, hope this makes you okay with what Cole's about to do!"

Maybe I should have listened.

Now, he's trying to remove my shorts, and an anger just boils up inside me, like a kettle. And right now, this kettle is steaming and ready to scream. Which I do. I scream for help, scream 'till my lungs go out, and raise my leg, high enough to kick him in the groin. He howls with pain, toppling off the bed, off of me. I give him another kick. My breathing is so heavy I feel like some sort of demon.

He shoots up from the floor, eyes blazing. "You psycho bitch." Words don't hurt me, but his fist coming up against my face does. It's surprising, it's shocking. I yelp, falling to the ground, holding my nose as blood drips down it, plopping onto the carpet. He takes another swing at me, this time my eye injured in the process. I scream again, pain coming over me. I try to fight back, but it's no use-he seems bigger now, like nothing can hurt him, like he's the hulk.

"Now," Cole continues, snatching a lock of my brown hair, tugging on it, then slamming my head to the floor. He does this repeatedly, as if he's trying to knock sense into me. "We're continuing what we left off." It's almost like his mind is washed away from what just happened 10 seconds ago, resuming what he was doing before. One word just comes to my mind, an ugly word I never even wanted to say.

_Rape._

"Cole_, please_." I hate begging, but it's what I have to do. He's never hit me before. Never. And I thought he'd never have it in him. Clearly the hulk just escaped.

Instead of answering, he slaps me across the face, so hard, I taste blood. And his lips against mine. It's forced, everything is forced. I can't help it, I find tears warbling down my cheeks. Cole looks disgusted, slapping me again, and again, and again, then takes a lit cigarette he's kept hidden, bringing it to my stomach several times. All I can think of is burning flesh, and I let out a strangled cry, resulting in the butt of the cigarette meeting my skin.

"Now you listen here." He spits out the words, saliva spraying my face. "You know what my boys call me? The guy who can't get a hold of his own girl. And you and I are going to-"

Everything stops. Cole's cold, angry voice. Him removing my clothes. My tears, my terror. Everything. It's all washed away, literally. Water slams open the door, flooding our room quickly. Cole looks dumbfounded, but doesn't move from his position on top of me. The water's in our whole room, salty and freezing, invading.

And then, total darkness.

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><p><strong>'Ello people :3 I'm here for a new fanfic :D Vaughn and Chelsea. I just made Cole up... I dunno, I never really wrote about someone getting beat up, so I'm probably not good at it. That's about it, I usually have nothing to say xDDD<strong>


	2. A Little While

**A Little While**

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><p>I'm awakened to the sound of mooing.<p>

_Mooing? Seriously Chelsea? Are you as crazy as your father?_ Is that what you're thinking? No? Well, it's what I hear.

I crack open my eyes, balling up my fists and rubbing them till my vision isn't blurry anymore. I hear grains of sand being crunched from people stepping in it, and all I can think of is Cole.

"Ma, Ma I think she's awake!" A pale girl with short pink hair peers at me, like I'm some sort of science experiment. I wanna stare right back at her and say, "hey, Pinkie Pie wants her hair back!" but I don't. I don't say anything. I am still scared. Still terrified.

"Goodness!" a soft-spoken women cries, hands placed on her heart. She has the same pink hair as the loud chick. What seems to be her son with wired glasses looks at me, tilting his head like he's trying to figure something out. I almost roll my eyes, when I see that all I have on is my bra, shorts, and socks. I am soaking wet, half naked, and I didn't even realize it.

I need to hide from Cole.

I try to scramble up, making a choking noise, when an old man pushes me back down, wagging his finger at me like I've done something wrong.

The quiet woman looks at me in sheer pity, then back to the old man. "Look at her dad. How old do you think the poor thing is?"

_If you ask me, I can tell you I'm 16._

"And look at all those bumps and bruises the _cruel_ ocean gave her."

_Nope, no. An asshole named Cole did it. Not the water. Water doesn't punch or try to commit sexual assault._

"The shipwreck must've knocked the words right out of her."

_I can talk, learned when I was 1. If you let me-_ Wait a minute, shipwreck?

"What?" My voice is tiny, small, like an ant. I cross my arms over my chest for warmth. It is freezing.

"We've been shipwrecked. We're stranded," the old grump says plainly, as if it's something that happens everyday. Normal, normal stuff.

"The boat was hit something, and we washed ashore. It's probably teared to pieces now," the girl comments, scowling. All I can think of is, hooray, I'm stranded on an island with the strawberry shortcake family, and Colonel Sanders decided to tag along. One already hates me, one says nothing, one talks to much, and one is just plain cynical. Lovely.

"Where's Cole?" I'm not asking anyone, I'm asking myself. The quiet woman looks as if she's about to burst into tears just by looking at me. The old man frowns, and the girl and boy sigh.

"Listen hear girlie. We got bad news." The old man holds out his wrinkly hand. I glare at him for a second, then take it as he helps me up. "It seems we're the only survivors from the wreck. We haven't found anyone else. We don't know if anyone else got washed up on the other side of this island, but..." Dangling from his fingers is Cole's dog tag necklace. _So we know who's the alpha around here._ It almost takes my breath away. I take it from him, feeling it cool in my hands, the inscription rough against my skin. I'm no idiot. I know what this means.

"Cole's dead?" It's not a question. It's a statement. My voice is bland, not sad, not cracky. Just... nothing.

The cynical girl has a surprising look of sympathy on her face, and she tries to comfort me. "I'm so sor-"

"No," I interrupt. I don't need people feeling pity for me. Because I am not sad. I am not scared. I do not care. Cole's dead. I want to jump up and shout, scream "I'M FREE!" but I don't. I stand still as a statue, and force myself to look into their eyes. "It's fine." I think back to who was on the ship. Thank god there weren't any pregnant women or small children-that I remember.

"How do we get back home?" I ask. My composure is regained; I am strong. I will not break, or crumble. I won't cry.

The old man stares at me like I'm a complete idiot. "We wait for someone to find us." Again, normal things for someone to say. Completely normal.

"What?" I snap, loud enough to make the boy wince like my yelling has caused him pain. "You mean we're STUCK here?" _Remain calm Chelse. Take a deep breath. One and two and one and two and... You know what? Never mind. Scream all ya want. You deserve it._

"Seems like it." Oh, how I love that the girl is trying so hard to cheer us all up. Makes me feel happy I'm alone on the island with these 4 amazing people.

There's a long pause. Very long. Finally, the old man says something. "Well, can't just stand around here."

_Really? 'Cause I thought that was a good idea._

"C'mon Elliot, I thought I heard some animals down there. Maybe this ship was transporting cargo or animals too."

The boy-Elliot-makes a face, then grudgingly agrees. "Yes Grandpa." They begin to walk away, into the thicket of trees, no one trying to stop them.

"Well," the woman says, putting on a smile. "Let's introduce ourselves. I'm Felicia. That boy down there is my son Elliot. The old man with him is my father, Taro. He may seem like a meanie, but he's actually very kind." With that, she skips-yes, _skips_ away, leaving only me, and the girl who was never mentioned.

I turn to face the ocean, clenching my fists. I don't want to be on an island. I want to be home. So I scream. It sounds like a sob, but I am not going to cry. I squeeze Cole's dog tag, then throw it into the ocean. It goes far, and lands with a plop. I sit on the sandy ground. I am no longer strong. I am defeated.

"Natalie," the girl murmurs. I look at her with half lidded eyes.

"What?"

"My name is Natalie." She's whispering, like someone is watching her speak, and what she's telling me is a big secret.

"Oh." For some reason, her telling me her name makes me sad. Her mother was supposed to, and she didn't. "I'm Chelsea."

"It's okay, they forget about me all the time." Natalie smiles weakly to herself, then drops her eyes down like she's just read my mind. "I'm used to it." I wonder if she even heard me.

"Oh," I say again. I get up, looking at her sad eyes. All I can think of is home, a place where I'm not welcomed. And I still want to go back.

"You know what I hate?" Natalie says, and I realize she's talking to me.

"What?"

"Twilight. I mean, all it's about is some stupid bitch deciding which boy she likes best, the wolf or the disco ball. I'd personally pick the wolf, get him to kill all my enemies. You know what Edward does? Sparkle and eat squirrels. That's it."

What she said... it's completely random; it came out of nowhere. But she said it like it was something important, and I have to laugh. Natalie looks at me funny, and laughs too, and pretty soon we're both laughing so hard, gasping for air. She and I will be close, I know it. Natalie takes my mind of getting back.

You know, at least for a little while.


	3. Not Alone

**Not Alone**

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><p>"I am just <em>so<em> glad that I still have my favourite shirt!" Julia grins, twirling around for us to see her top. Only her words come out "hayve" and "mah" from her Southern drawl. "Ain't it cute? It's even got them cute cows on it, and they're smilin'!" She points to a brown one, who's face has broken out into a pink smile. I nod, not wanting to break her spirit, while Natalie makes her fingers look like a gun, pushing it against her temple, then falling face first into the counter like she's dead.

"Kill me know," she murmurs, low enough for only me to hear. I tsk silently, shushing her.

We're all in an old abandoned building that could clearly fall on all of us at any given moment, but we don't move. I don't know why, and I don't question it. Maybe it's because we found Julia in here, shivering cold, and when she saw us, her face lit up, and she just started talking, and talking, and talking.

Julia isn't like anyone I've ever seen before. She's one of those people you walk by, then do a double take to look at. She's pretty, with long honey coloured hair which she tells us is _always_ in a ponytail, and really bright blue eyes. When Elliot saw her, he mumbled something about gathering leaves, and ran away. Julia just giggled, and said, "aww, he's so sweet. Maybe he'll, like, try to find a way to cook them." Natalie looked at her like she wanted nothing more than to assassinate her. Then again, she wants to assassinate anyone she hates.

"Well, _I_ am glad that we're all safe," Natalie snaps, glaring at Julia as if she did something wrong. Julia tilts her head and frowns, then regains her naturally happy expression.

"Oh, of course. Of course. I'm glad my mom's okay, and I even met you guys! Now _we're_ like one big happy family! Ya'll seem so nice." She reaches over to Natalie because she's the closest one to her, and hugs her tightly.

"I will give you _3_ seconds to let go of me, or I will pound your face into the ground," Natalie says firmly. Julia lets go of her immediately, startled, then laughs.

"You're so funny Natalie!"

"She's a regular comedian," I add, just to get under her skin. I know Nat won't kill me. Julia on the other hand, she might.

"Yes, I belong on a sitcom." Sarcasm is Natalie's best friend. One of mine too.

"Anyway." I'm trying to change the subject, trying to avoid a fight. "Do you know if anyone else was found?"

Julia pauses for a moment, putting a finger on her lips. "Well, there's you, Natalie, Elliot, Taro, Felicia, my mom Mirabelle, me, and... oh! I think they found 4 more people!" She grins, then breathes a sigh of relief. "I think one's name is Chen, he's got a son named Charlie. Real cute kid. Then there's Gannon and his daughter Eliza, she reminds me of me when I was little! They're both adorable and-"

"Wait," I cut her off. "Kids?" My mind is racing. I thought there weren't any on the ship. What if there's more, what if they're hurt?

"Oh, Chelse, don't worry. There was only 2, that I remember. I don't recall any of them havin' a momma, so I don't think anyone was killed. Speaking of which, I do remember you with that guy. Cale or something? Real handsome. Where is he?" Julia looks around the shack, like Cole's going to appear at the doorway any minute. But he can't because he is dead and I am free and I don't care. Natalie whacks Julia with the back of her hand. "Ow!" Julia yelps, rubbing her head. "What was _that_ for?" She then looks at me, seeing how I'm gripping a stray piece of wood so hard, my knuckles are a bone white.

"Oh," Julia mumbles, dropping her eyes down. "I'm so sorry Chelsea. He didn't make it, didn't he?" Tears fall out of her eyes, and I want to shake her, telling her it doesn't matter to me, telling her I don't care, telling her to just, _stop._

"It's okay, you didn't know." I told Nat what he almost did to me. I guess this was just one of her opportunities to let it out on clueless Julia.

"So!" Natalie claps her hands together, and I think this is the most animated I've ever seen her. "We've all got jobs around here, right?"

Julia bobs her head enthusiastically, like she's magically recovered. "Yeah! Back home, momma and I sold animals, and raised 'em!I think there are a few on the island, so we'll breed 'em and sell 'em, and they'll make milk to put in the shippin' bin and-"

"Yeah yeah, great." Nat rolls her eyes. "I'm pretty good with farming, and so is Elliot. Gramps used to be a farmer, so he knows a lot about it. I think he can teach you Chelse." I almost laugh, trying to keep my snickers in, so it sounds like I'm choking.

"What's wrong?" Natalie asks me, furrowing her pink brow. I shake my head and smile.

"I'm the opposite of King Midas. Every plant I touch turns to 'mold.'" I tried growing a bean in preschool. Didn't go so well. I was a kid, I didn't understand the concept, "don't keep your plant in you bedroom drawer." I can still smell it rotting.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you'll be fine," Nat scoffs, thought trying to be encouraging. She's made a wonderful guidance counsellor.

"Kay, but when Taro cries 'cause I'm unteachable, don't come crying to me." We all laugh, and I almost forget how good it feels to laugh.

"Oooh! Best news ever!" Julia bounces up and down in her chair, clearly excited. "Gannon's a carpenter, and he says he can build _anything_ if he's got some wood and stone. Ain't that super?"

"Oh joy," Nat mutters. "You are way too happy for my liking."

"And," Julia continues. I wonder if she heard Nat, or just ignored her. "Chen, the other dude. Well, he's a store owner, and he had this waterproof luggage or somethin', and it's got all these goodies in it, like chocolate, seeds, and other stuff we need, so he'll sell them to us, and we won't stave! Ain't that just-"

"Super? Yup, it sure is." I flash Julia a smile, and she returns it. Natalie's eyes have are cut like slits, but she smiles too.

"Well, girls, I gotta go see my 'farm.' Apparently Taro thinks I can grow veggies, so I guess we'll expect him to bitch about me killing everything thing." Julia giggles, and Nat's face crinkles into a smile. "Don't kill each other." When I walk out, I hear Julia's voice ask, "what's she mean by that?"

So she's ditzy. But she's still kind.

I walk up the path that leads to my farm. An extremely old, barely white anymore, clapboard house lies there, the red roof staring at me like I'm a huge disappointment. Me, a farmer? Get real.

Taro comes and throws a ton of farm equipment into my weak arms, blathering on about the importance of fertilizer and what-not. After he's done droning on, and I have plated my very first turnip-golly gee! Call the newspapers everyone!-I step into my house, thank full it's stable enough to not crush me in my sleep. A long tin tub is placed in the right corner, on another room in this already small house, and I want nothing more than a warm bath. I fill it with water from the same lake near my home, and lie there, all alone, not caring it's freezing cold. Maybe it'll wake me up from reality.

When I'm done, I use the dirty large rag I found outside, which looks like it used to be a table cloth, and wrap it around myself, humming softly, making my way out of the room.

And finding a pair of purple eyes staring back at me.


	4. Meet n' Greet

**Meet n' Greet**

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><p>The purple eyes don't move away from mine for even a second. They remain, and confusion is all I see in them.<p>

Sure, it's not just a set of eyes I see. There's a chiselled, strong face, tufts of silver hair falling out from underneath a cowboy hat, tall, broad body, soft skin texture. Obviously, it's a man.

Meaning I'm standing completely naked with only a rag in front of a dude whom I've never met before in my life.

Lovely.

Finally, after what seems like forever, he speaks. "I-uh." Guess he's never been in this kind of predicament. Can't say I have either. So, I do the only rational thing I can think of: scream.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" My voice is loud, pitchy, not weak, like when I used to talk to Cole. I honestly don't know where I am going with this. Clinging to my "towel," I raise one clenched fist, knocking his arm. Before Chelsea, who took crap from everyone, wouldn't do this. After Chelsea, that's another story.

"Ow!" He lets out a cry, and I realize he is the second guy I've ever punched. The first one is dead. "The hell was that for? What the f-"

Narrowing my eyes, I stand close to him, sure my face is burning red. "What do you _want_-why are you _here?_"

He stares at me funny, like he thought before I was misunderstood, and now looks at me like I'm a complete wackjob.

"I _came_ here to tell you that I was on the boat too, and my job's gonna be-"

"Golly gee, the cowboy has a job that he simply _must_ share with the new farmer because obviously it matters at this given moment in the middle of the night-especially when she's just gotten out of her bath! Hey, dude, ask me if I care." Clenching my jaw, I try to take deep breathes, try to calm down my heart that's beating like a figgin' hummingbird.

He snorts, and I want to hurt him. "Oh, excuse me. I wasn't aware of your schedule." I do not like this guy-not one bit.

"Here's a tip." I poke him in the middle of his forehead, his bangs brushing away. "You don't sneak up on girls, when they're _naked._"

"I'll try to remember that," he snaps back. I can't tell if he's just pissed off, or it's just his normal expression.

We stare at each other again for a very long time, neither of us talking, and I feel my cheeks flaming, feel like he can read every singe one of my thoughts. Which is not good.

"Chelsea." I have to break this silence. I want him to go away. I stick out my hand, while he stares blankly. I feel angrier. "It's a _handshake,_" I explain sarcastically.

"Thanks idiot, I wasn't aware."

"Oh I'm the idiot? Seriously?"

"You know what? Just forget about it, okay? Vaughn, that's my name. Not 'Cowboy,' not 'Dude,' just Vaughn." He grips my hand tightly between his leather glove, and shakes it roughly on purpose.

"Whatever," I mutter, jerking my head away. I catch him saunter away, jamming his hands in his vest pocket, walking away from my tiny home. I shudder, because suddenly, the room just got a whole lot chillier. Slipping on my clothes, I lay on the floor, Vaughn not leaving my mind. I hate him, we're not going to get along.

I know it.


	5. Déjà Vu

**Déjà Vu**

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><p>Words are barely etched into my brain. Julia is taking my hand, jittery and smiling her usual isn't-today-just-great smile, talking excessively. I can only hear bits of what she says. "New animal dealer... mysterious... you're going to love him..." I am tired. I am bleary. I did not sleep last night. Purple eyes invaded my dreams.<p>

I think Julia knows I'm not listening, but I don't think she cares. I think deep down, one day she believes she will lose her voice, and she'll never talk again, and she has to get all the words out now.

Or maybe not.

We walk into her animal shop, still rickety and old and spider infested and musty from yesterday. Nothing has changed. The carpenter Gannon is doing other work-Julia offered her place to be completed last. Because that is who she is, she puts others first. And maybe that's why Natalie hates her.

Inside, one small, Chinese oriented boy who looks like he wants nothing more then to be a ninja runs around the shop, grinning madly, saying, "Catch me Eliza, catch me!" and a little blue eyed girl with ribbons in her hair looks up from her chipped red nails, arching her eyebrow like, _seriously? Tag? Lame._ I want to call her Shirley Temple, because she looks like her as a child. I want to ask her what was it like being in "The Little Princess" or "Poor Little Rich Girl" but I don't because she is just someone else, a look-a-like, a clone.

"Charlie!" Julia yells, trying to scold the little boy. She can't because she is Julia and she won't ever stop being cheerful.

Charlie holds up his hands, as if he's trying to say "what?" but just widens his grin. "Hey, Vaughn wouldn't play with me, so now Eliza and I got to."

Vaughn. The name is familiar. I've heard it before. But in a dream. It's not real. This Vaughn person is not real.

"Except you are the one who is only running," Eliza replies. Her voice sounds like porcelain, delicate and pure, like she perfected it to sound that way.

Julia puts her hands on her dainty, stick thin waist. "Well, just be careful. Ya'll don't wanna break nothin', do ya?" Charlie shakes his head vigorously, _no_ and Eliza rolls her eyes. "Well good," Julia says and smiles. Then she looks around the room, like someone else is there.

"Vaughn?" Julia calls out, and I push the name to the back of my brain. There's a scuffling noise. There's someone appearing from a door at the back of the room. There's gruff, angry, mean purple eyes.

Everyone's favourite cowboy has joined us. He is real, not someone in my dream, not someone I can push to the back of my brain. _Real._

We lock eyes, but only for a second, before we quickly avert them to the walls, like there's something extremely interesting written on them. The map to Atlantis. The reason why the Columbus Blue Jackets haven't won the Stanley Cup yet. Where Amelia Earhart's plane landed.

"Whaddya want Daisy Duke?" he asks and I know he is talking to Julia. I am not pretty enough to be called that, not flashy enough. I am just farm girl Chelsea.

Julia just giggles, like it's the funniest name she's ever heard, like he just made it up on the spot. "Oh Vaughn, ya'll are so funny." Then she laughs some more, because yes, Mr. Antisocial is a regular Russell Peters.

There is an uncomfortable silence in the room, and maybe the kids sense it, because Charlie shouts a "bye!" and Eliza walks carefully out of the room, like she could break at any moment.

Julia just regains a smile, and pulls me in front of her, as if I'm a prize she wants the world to see. "Vaughn," she begins, obviously playing out the words multiple times in her head. "This is Chelsea. She's gonna be our star farmer on this island. Ain't that great?" I won't tell her I already know who this cowboy is, I won't ruin her spirit. I will keep her strong.

"Hi," I say, and stick out my hand again, just like last night, and I want to say "déjà vu" but don't. Vaughn seems to know what I'm doing, so he plays along too, my hand feeling warm enclosed in his leather glove.

"Hey," Vaughn mutters, and Julia frowns, like there's supposed to be more, like fireworks were supposed to shoot out from the shack, dazzling the sky in bright neon colours, brightening up everyone's faces.

"Vaughn's our new animal dealer, so, he'll be takin' care of them animals and stuff..." and Julia chatters on, like a never ending record. Vaughn looks like he wants to get the hell out of here, and I can't blame him. No matter how hard you try, if an awkward silence enters the room, there's no way getting it out. It's permanent, it stays.

I murmur something about having to water my turnips, ignoring Julia's disappointed gesture, and find Natalie, sitting on the floor of her home, staring up in the blue sky where there's a huge gaping hole in her roof. I watch her stare off into space for a long time, while she finally acknowledges me, staring at me like I'm see through.

She motions for me to sit down, and we both just look up at the sky, like it has the answers to how we'll get back home, when Julia saunters in, and Nat makes a face, but doesn't snap at Julia to leave.

And I finally spill out how much I hate Vaughn.


	6. Silence

**Silence**

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><p>They both listen intently as I talk, as I complain. It is a wonder they can actually understand me. My words are smushed together, tighter then the peanut butter sandwiches my mom used to make when she loved me.<p>

"'shisproblem..." I let out more angry curses that have been lodged in my throat for what seems like forever. It has really been only been 14 hours.

How long have I been talking for? An hour. A year? A decade? A millennium? That's all I can think of because I am a dropout who forgot everything she learned. I lost my book smarts long ago. My street smarts I picked up from Cole are slowly fading away.

After I am finished my incoherent babbling, Julia is nodding like she has understood every word I have said. Natalie is giving me a look and I know one of her famous comments are coming.

"But Chelse," Julia says, sympathetically touching my seizure-ish hand. I do not know why I am shaking. I do not know. "Remember what I always say."

"Leaves come from the sky?" Natalie offers with a smirk. Julia laughs playfully, because she thinks that this whole thing is one big joke.

It's not.

_"No,"_ she replies sharply, as if a switch has been turned on for her face. "There's good in ev'rybody. Vaughn's just a lil' complicated. But you'll see it. Ya shouldn't hate anybody."

She sounds like my mother. A younger, accidental Daisy-Duke of my mother. And I think I shake even more.

"You can't ban all the hate in the world," Nat snaps harshly.

"Well I can try," Julia argues back delicately. "Hate's wrong."

Natalie gives her a look of sheer pity, and shakes her head, like she feels sorry that Julia hates no one. That she has more people she loathes then Julia can count.

She turns to me, strands of her odd coloured hair whipping her in the face. "Maybe you don't hate him," Natalie says. Her comment is coming. "Maybe you like him."

_Oh, there it is._

"No," I say.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. If you want him, you can have him. I want nothing to do with him."

"Right."

"I'm serious."

"Ah-huh."

"Nat."

"He's not my type," Nat replies curtly. Her pale body looks rigid from the cold, even though it is spring.

"I think he's handsome," Julia says, with that cloudy, dreamy look in her eyes. The wind blows strongly through the huge, gaping holes in the walls and roof. Even as her hair blows messily in the wind, she is still beautiful. And I know any guy would want her. No one will want me. I am in the clearance bin.

"Then knock yourself out," I murmur. I do not care what Julia does. It doesn't matter to me.

The door to the small shack swings open, and for a second I think it's the wind or some paranormal activity, but I am not lucky. It is Vaughn.

"Speak of the devil," I mutter. We both glare, shooting daggers with our eyes. Julia steps in front of me, before any of us can throw real daggers at each other. Because we both know that's what we want more then anything. Julia gives me a pleading look, like, _murder is not the answer!_ and Nat arches an eyebrow like she's trying to say, _of course it is you blonde ditz._

"What's wrong?" Julia asks him, her voice calm and soothing, like she is a grandmother singing a soft lullaby to a child.

"They found more people," Vaughn says, his voice shallow as if he has just run a marathon. Julia widens her eyes, and races past him out the little house, pushing him aside, screaming frantically, "SURVIVORS! GLORY THANK THE LORD! THERE'RE _SURVIVORS!"_

Natalie rolls her eyes, and follows her like she's got no other choice. Which none of us really do. Julia's as wild as her waist is a twig.

So, it leaves me and the purple eyes.

"Ladies first," Vaughn says, doing a poor impression of a gentleman because he isn't one and will never be one.

"Then go," I retort. I do not need special treatment. I do not need _sarcastic_ special treatment. I need Vaughn gone so I can be alone.

But I know I have no other choice.

So we walk out the shack that will crumble at any moment, the shack that people will live in, the shack that people will shiver in, in silence.

And thank God it stays that way.


	7. How to Get Home

**How to Get Home**

* * *

><p>"Over here," Vaughn says. We all follow him. We all stare at the thicket of bushes and trees and other plants. We all listen to Julia mumble some prayer. She must think that the other survivors are going to automatically die if we don't reach them in the next 4 minutes so she has to pray for their safety.<p>

Vaughn pushes a huge leaf aside so we can look. Our heads are layered on top of each other, tilted, like we are in some Disney show and we're spying on someone. Julia's head is at the top because her damn high heeled cowgirl boots make her the tallest. I look down at my feet for a brief second and remember how I don't have any shoes. They must feel sad, lost in the ocean, or sunk to the bottom of a whirlpool or becoming a crab's new home.

I see six people. Six alive people. Two girls, three boys, one creepy middle aged dude with a moustache like Salvador Dalí. One girl looks like a china doll, except she has thick rimmed glasses and long, cascading black hair with a pale pink bow, as pale as Nat's skin. The other girl has golden blonde hair with a green, ribboned headband-thing. She reminds me of my old friend Kelly. I think back to when Kelly and I were little and we played Nicky Nicky Nine Doors. We had laughed so hard, knocking on the huge chestnut piece of wood, even though no one was home to answer the it. Then I remember that Kelly hates me now and I frown.

One guy has really tanned skin, and a bird on his shoulder. The other one is hard to tell if he's a child or an adult. He is short. His purple-ish hat makes him appear taller, but not by much. The last guy is, by far, the handsomest of the dudes. He has a mop of cornsilk hair and a crooked, lopsided smile. I want to ask him why he's smiling. I want to shake him hard, and demand, "why are you smiling?" but I don't need people to think I'm a sociopath like my father. So I don't say anything.

I don't think they notice us. Natalie says, "I think that old man's one of the richest men in England."

"Really?" Julia whispers, in utter shock. "OhmiGod do I look okay? I hope I look okay. I'm meeting the richest guy in the world and my hair's probably a mess. What if he thinks I'm white trash? Does anyone have a mirror?"

"We're stranded on a deserted island you retard. Why would we have a mirror?"

"Okay Natalie, I was just asking. First impressions-"

"Would you two shut up?" Vaughn snaps and they do. The handsomest one glances in the direction of Vaughn's stupid voice, and without thinking, I say, "duck" like he's a deranged serial killer that will stick a knife in us faster then you could blink. I am the only one that ducks, the only one that feels the branches scrape across her cheeks lightly. I think Julia wants to too, but Natalie says, _"no"_ like she is scolding a dog.

"Hey!" Handsome Guy waves his arms around frantically, as if we don't see him. We all give each other looks, because we are trying to read each others minds, and decide we'll acknowledge him. Vaughn goes first and I go last because I don't want to be near everyone's favourite cowboy.

"I _told you_ there were more people here Denny!" Handsome Guy says triumphantly, as if having an instinct that more people are alive and stranded on this island deserves an award. He shoots us a dazzling white grin, and Julia returns the smile politely. I look around for Nat, waiting for her to say something like, "well aren't you happy?" but she is busy tending to the child/adult.

"Oh my goodness are you okay?" Nat asks him, putting her hand on her heart just like her caring mother did when she found me. This can't be Natalie. Natalie doesn't have a warm, helpful voice or a finger that automatically twirls around strands of her hair. She loves this guy. Even if he is 12/19.

"Y-yeah," he answers tentatively. He makes it sound as if this is the first person that has cared about him in awhile. He sounds happy and in shock at the same time.

"You have nice eyes," Natalie says dopily. She leans into him and I think she is going to kiss him so I grab her shoulders and drag her back a little.

He smiles. "Thank you." He extends his hand and Nat looks at it like it is covered in a fine layer of gold. "I'm Pierre."

"Natalie." She gives him a flirtatious smile. Or smirk. It's hard to tell because Natalie doesn't smile. This isn't Natalie.

"Okay, we're not in the schoolyard kids, we don't have time for this," Vaughn buts in rudely. I want my fist to make contact with his face.

Pierre looks hurt. "I'm 18," he says softly.

"OhmiGod me too!" Natalie cries, resembling Julia's voice, and this time it's not making fun of her.

We all introduce ourselves while Nat sits with Pierre and laughs at everything he says. Mark is the handsome one. Denny is the one with the bird. Sabrina is the china doll. Lanna is Kelly's look-a-like, and tells us she is a one hit wonder. Regis is the rich one. A few other people come out of the bushes. _Children of the Corn._ They all have overalls and straw hats. _You see?_ I think. These people _are farmers. Not me. Taro can recruit them. Not me._

Megan has coal black frizzy hair and blue overalls. Rebecca has green hair and seems snobbish. Kipp and Buck both have suspenders and thick eyebrows. That is it. Everyone else is dead. Lanna says her stalker fan Lloyd didn't make it. The captain died instantly. The farmers' acquaintances were killed. And Cole? Cole is just... gone.

"An island... think of all the fortunes bestowed here, daughter!" Regis says, twiddling his moustache carefully. Sabrina sighs.

"Father."

"Like you need it," Vaughn mutters. Regis jerks his head up and glares at Vaughn.

_"What_ did you say to me?" he seethes, lips tightening. Sabrina winces.

"Father," she says again, trying to calm him down, tugging at his coat. He gives her a look that says, _don't interrupt me now_ but obeys his daughter. I wish I could laugh, but then everyone would think I am crazy.

_"Anyway,"_ he emphasizes, giving Vaughn another one of his famous-looks. Vaughn doesn't even flinch. "Remember those tickets I purchased last year Sabrina?"

"No."

"Well, I feel like I should maybe, give them away."

My eyes widen. "What?" Mark and I say at the exact same time.

"Well, I'm sure we'd all like to return home, correct?" I am the only one who nods her head furiously. Vaughn merely shrugs, Natalie is busy talking with Pierre, and Julia is singing to herself quietly.

"I think I have a solution where two of you lucky children will be given that chance."

"How?" Mark and Rebecca ask.

Regis smiles a twinged smile. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. "Come to the beach tomorrow and see."


End file.
